


It'll Be Worth It

by QueerSherlockian (Anglophile_Fiend)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Choking, Dom/sub, Humiliation, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Professor John, Rough Sex, Sex Toys, Spanking, Teenlock, Top John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 06:18:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1215778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anglophile_Fiend/pseuds/QueerSherlockian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the lovely sherlock-and-john-getting-it-on  who asked for "professorJohn being all predatory and toppy-top for bottom!sherlock" as well as a few other kinks they requested I add later. Hope you love it! There is not much plot, it's just smutty kinky smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It'll Be Worth It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sherlock-and-john-getting-it-on](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=sherlock-and-john-getting-it-on).



> Professor John meets teen (legal) Sherlock in a sex club.

Despite his reservations, John’s pulse was throbbing with excitement. He glared down at the mobile app to re-read it’s data for the twentieth time, and took a calming breath. Punish him.Come on you can do this, he thought as he slipped the mobile into his locker, along with his ‘regular clothes.’ He gave himself one final appraisal in a nearby mirror, flexing his bare chest, and adjusting leather cuffs that highlighted his dusky tanned skin. Not bad Professor.

 

John Watson was a long standing and well respected member of The Club. He was requested often enough to have a solid reputation, but had always maintained a strict policy of never engaging with anyone under twenty-three. All his potential play partners were screened by the club, and were be matched by them as well, which was perfect for the professor. He dared enough living in this University town. He couldn’t risk his hard-won reputation by the off chance that he’d meet one of his freshman students.

 

This morning though, he’d gotten a desperate and frantic call from the club’s manager Mike.

“Please John. I’m begging you mate. On my bloody knees. Just this once. I need this so bad, and no one else will take him.”

“You’re 100% certain that he doesn’t attend uni here, and doesn’t plan on it?”

“Yes, John, yes. His brother is high up in the government, so he wants it all hush-hush, and he’s paying fucking triple for everything. This kid doesn’t need to go to Uni, he can do anything he wants. Which is prolly why he’s such a brat, but that’s the life of an nineteen-year-old right?”

“Triple, you say?”

“Fuck yeah! Triple, John. Think about that, I know you want the cash. Come on! You like a challenge right? It’ll be fun.”

“Fine. I’ll do it, but I handle him my way. And big brother will stay out of this, correct?”

“Sure. Yeah. Of course John. Thank you. I promise, it’ll be bloody worth it. Sending you the info now!”

 

John hung up, and a shiver of anticipation ripped down his spine. After not being with someone that young in a very long time, it was an enticing proposition. He did need the money, and taking these paid sessions was great fun. Plus, paying for Harry’s rehab was severely dipping into his savings, and this would go a long way into helping him replenish those coffers.

 

For all his confidence and elation, John’s breath was absent the moment he stepped into the dim room, saw his newest cohort, and he was totally nude. John's mouth watered at the perfection in every sculpted curve of the man on his knees with his head bowed, and body taunt. He cut the most gorgeous figure. John wanted to run to him, and caress every long line, but he held himself back. _No, this guy wants to be punished, and I said that I would do that for him. This isn’t about me, I’m getting paid, this is about him and his pleasure._  He rolled his shoulders back, brushed nothing off his tight leather pants, strode confidently to the young man, and roughly grabbed a fistful of inky curls.

 

The pale stranger flinched. “Who told you to get undressed?” John spoke harsh enough to make the other man hunch his shoulders in a slight cower. “I asked you a question. Don’t make me ask it again.”

“No one told me. I did it myself…. Isn’t this what you want, Master?” The young man said straightening back up again, his tone dripping with superiority.

“You will address me as, Sir. It said in your file that your name was Sherlock. Do you still prefer to be called that?” John asked letting go of the silky hair.

“Yes I do...sir.”

“Then you need to earn it kid. Get up! You’re getting on that table.”

Sherlock paused, toying with the idea of disobeying, but decided that there was something ‘not-boring’ about this man, something he couldn’t put his finger on. He let John haul him to his feet with a tight grip on his throat, and winced as he was led over to a large wooden table.

 

“Lay down.” John commanded, throwing his neck away to release him.

Sherlock flopped on his stomach, and a frisson sparked across the bits of skin that rubbed against the smooth tabletop.

“No. Flat on your back.” He ordered with a decidedly military demeanor on his face, which sent Sherlock’s mind into full deduction mode. _Interesting, but he’s not a career, he does something else now; pastor, teacher, librarian, something ordinary I’m sure of that, Oh obvious-professor_!

 

Flipping over, Sherlock’s confident facade dropped for a moment, replaced with a puzzled expression. _I’m positive I choose ‘Spanking’ as my number one option. What is this guy doing? Isn’t he supposed to be ordinary?_ Another of John’s commands broke through Sherlock’s thoughts,

“Legs up. Hands around your ankles- you’re going to need to grip tight.”

 

He wasn’t sure what sparked more pleasure; the order, or John’s tone, either way- this former military man was getting Sherlock hard, fast. John pressed a strong hand to the underside of each of Sherlock’s thighs. He forced him to stretch until knees hovered just to the side of his chest, and all of his sex was exposed.  Sherlock snuck a peek between his legs, _I must look like a giant baby! He’s sure got the humiliation part down, this is damn demeaning,_ but he also saw his cock swelling up before his own eyes.

 

“Taste this.”

The thong of a whip poked against his lips, and Sherlock opened wide. John jabbed the crop inside his mouth, “Come on, get it wet, it’ll hurt more.” John’s body gave a small shudder, as he watched the lanky teen obscenely lap at the leather flap. “Now, kid.” John pulled the whip out and away, and Sherlock whimpered at the loss. “Your safe word is ‘Red’ do you understand? You say that, and everything stops. Understood?”

Sherlock nodded, and laid his head back down.

 

“No. I need to hear you say it.”  
“Red. Yes, Sir. Sorry, sir.”

“That’s better. On to your punishment. Sherlock for your insolence at undressing like a common street whore, I’m going to give you ten lashes with this riding crop. Do you agree with this punishment?”

 

“Well... it’s a dressage whip, but I suppose ‘crop’ is a precious shorthand. Of course, seeing as how you were raised in the outskirts of London, and you’ve never taken a dressage lesson in your life, how could you know?  I mean, you’re a middle aged, former army doctor, and life-long bachelor. A man who’s only days returned from a gay caribbean cruise- something you do every year, since you aren’t out at your job, which is professor of sciences at the local university. How could you possib-.”

 

Sherlock realized the other man was staring at him silent and unmoving. He cringed, and let his arms and legs drop down to the table with a thud. _Fuck! I’ve done it again. Pissed off another willing dom, and at this rate, I’m going to have to risk my life on goddamned Craigslist to get off_. But a surprising thing happened. The man started laughing.

 

“Oh shite, sorry mate. That was brilliant. You’ve got me pegged. Well, almost.” He chuckled into the back of his hand.   
Sherlock picked up his head to glare at the still chuckling man. “What’d I miss?”

“It was the Mexican Riviera, not the Caribbean. But other than that, on the nose. That was spectacular.”

“Mexico, ah well. Um...no one’s ever responded like that. Thank you...sir.”

John flashed a genuine and relaxed grin, “You’re welcome. Amazing Sherlock. You are a sodding genius.” Then all of that positive energy was wiped clean from his face.

“Right. Now...where were we? Oh yes. Legs up boy, grab your ankles. I’m going to enjoy punishing you.” Sherlock wasted no time shifting his body into the desired position again.

 

John wasn’t kidding. He enjoyed every crack of the whip on Sherlock’s pale bottom, and the accompanying red and pink blotches that bloomed there. Each flick that brought erotic moans of pleasure from Sherlock, was music to John’s ears. A few times his aim ‘slipped’ so he caught the sensitive ballsack. The leaking hardness of Sherlock’s cock was all the evidence he needed to know he was on the right track.

 

After the tenth lash Sherlock struggled for breath, and his legs refused to stop shaking. John smiled at his sweating form, “Relax, legs down.”

Without a snarky comment, Sherlock’s limbs hit the table hard. He took a shaky inhale, “Thank you, Sir,” and tried to catch his breath.

“You’re welcome, Sherlock.” John consented to using his actual name. “I’m proud of you.”

 

Whether it was the use of his name or simply the praise itself, Sherlock couldn’t stop the smile that stretched across his face. “Thank you, Sir,” he repeated, this time without gasping. Every nerve in his body was tingling with anticipation. This was one of the few things that helped calm his mind, and he was well on his way to powering down. He was drawn out of his haze, when he sensed a hot throb coming from his prick. “So, how about you take care of this massive erection I’m sporting?” Sherlock suggested with a swarthy grin.

 

“What?!” John almost choked on his own spittle. “Are you for real? No wonder you have to get your brother to pay triple for play partners. You are an absolute cock!” He threw down the whip in frustration, and turned on his heel. “And triple is not enough for this fucking bull,” John shouted back, as he stalked towards the door.

 

“No. Sir. Uh. Whoever you are. Don’t leave me like this. Please, sir.” Sherlock sat up and pleaded, long legs hanging off the table, prick quickly softening.

John’s hand stilled on the doorknob before whipping around with eyes narrowed. “You should’ve thought of that before you popped off about...me getting you off! I’m not a fucking prostitute, Sherlock. There are ways to do things, and that sure as fuck isn’t it.” John paused, chest heaving with a storm of emotions.

 

Sherlock realized things were deteriorating, and flew from the table to crash upon his knees at John’s feet. “Please. Sir. please.” He grabbed a fistful of John’s leather pants, and gazed up at him through dark lashes with glittering eyes. “I’ll do anything. Please don’t leave me. I’ll be better. I promise you, Sir. He reached up to John’s massive bulge, and caressed the smooth leather. “I can make it worth your while, sir.”

 

This made John laugh again, but this time without any mirth. “Ahhh. You’re fucking gorgeous when you beg.” He sighed at his lack of restraint when it came to beautiful things. “Alright, one more chance, boy.”

“Oh, thank you sir. Thank you.” And moved to unzip the leather trousers, but John snatched up Sherlock’s fingers.

“You are shite at this, you know that?” John announced. “No. Listen boy, I’m the one running this show. Up!” He lifted up Sherlock’s hand, and kept lifting until Sherlock was forced to stand lest his arm pop out of its socket. Before steel bands wrapped around his legs, and he found himself slung over the dom’s shoulders like a lamb. What John lacked in stature, he made up for in strength as he shifted Sherlock into a proper ‘fireman’s carry.’  

 

“Hey what the fuck are you doing? Put me down. How are you able to do that?” Sherlock shouted to John’s back, as he walked them across the room. Then John shrugged off the rangy youth into an ugly heap on the floor next to the table. “What the fuck is going on?” Sherlock cried out, as he moved up onto his knees, face burning with indignation.

 

John cocked a hip, leaned down to Sherlock’s eye level, and raised his eyebrows to utter a single word, “training.”

Sherlock gulped audibly, his heart fluttered like a birds. “W-what can I do for you Sir?”

John paused, eyes narrowed, then stood back up. “Hmmm. as I suspected. Crawl back onto that table, keep on all fours.” He commanded, face again the picture of military stern, and walked over to gather his supplies. Sherlock clambered up the table to crouch, hands, knees, and feet pressing into the wood.

 

“Ready when you are sir.” Sherlock said a bit more breathy that he would’ve liked. John couldn’t help the quick dart of tongue at the sound, and gripped the chain in his hand tight enough for it to bite into his flesh. John didn’t get off on pain, but he could use it to center himself just as well as masochist. He finished collecting his gear with a steadying breath, and chucked the items unto the table at Sherlock’s feet with a clatter.

 

John then proceeded to attach leather cuffs to Sherlock’s wrists and ankles. Sherlock kept his head down, and was shocked when John yanked at the cuff on one of his ankles to latch onto an O-ring at the corner. This made Sherlock lose his balance, and drop down onto the unyielding tabletop with a loud noise. John paid the resounding, “oomph” no mind as he repeated the action to each of Sherlock’s limbs, with increasing speed, until he was stretched wide on his stomach. Sherlock rubbed himself into the wood with tiny kicks of his hips, and relished the sensation of the grain on his sensitive skin.

 

John stood a moment to admire his work. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from this perfect body spread-eagled and helpless. It made John’s cock twitch. He knew he wouldn’t be able to spend much time prepping Sherlock if he was going to fuck him, watching him would no doubt be enough to send him over the edge with the tiniest bit of friction. Something that his tight leather pants provided for in spades. John took another of his steadying breaths and picked up a length of glass and squirted a dollop of lube, before slicking it all over the piece.

 

“Ready boy?” John asked the squirming figure, who was rubbing his erection into the wood.  
“Please sir, please.” He spoke almost breathlessly.

John circled Sherlock’s tight pucker with one of his lubed up fingers, the other gripped a still-red cheek. Sherlock relaxed, content in the knowledge of how the next few moments would progress. Of course John was never ordinary, and always performing the unexpected- he slid the glass plug inside.

“FUCK!” Sherlock shouted at the objects’ sudden intrusion. “Humf, well that was a welcome surprise.” He said while trying to get John to thrust the object in deeper.

“Thought you might like that. Feels good, eh?” John asked, turning it in circles while gliding in and out of Sherlock’s tight arse with a languid pace.

Sherlock was enjoying himself too much to answer. Eyes screwed up, biting on his lower lip, as a light sheen of sweat started to appear along his back. “More, sir.” Was all he offered as a response.

 

John gave a smirk that Sherlock couldn’t see behind his closed eyes, and stepped back, leaving the plug in place, it’s flat end ensuring it wouldn’t disappear. He unzipped his pants with a decisive swish, and shed them while watching Sherlock’s body respond by digging large fingers and toes into the table, scrabbling for purchase.

 

John dropped an octave into Sherlock’s ear, “I’ve got something else for you to taste.”  This caused his eyes to spring open with trepidation. Sherlock was sure this was the moment in which this ‘not-boring’ man would shift into the Ordinary category, as his doms so often did. When John stood up straight, and thrust his cock near Sherlock’s face, all his fears went out the window, it was huge. Thank God.

 

Sherlock’s pupils blew out wide with lust and he pulled against his restraints, aching to get his lips around John’s enormous erection, that was held out of reach. “Now, that’s a big dick. Please sir, can I suck it now?”

“Alright, since you asked like a proper young gentlemen.” John teased as he took a step closer to the tables edge, and thrust his dick into Sherlock’s face. Sherlock had to strain to get his lips around the hardening member. He slobbered around its wide girth, and managed to take it deep as his tongue slicked the underside of John’s cock with enthusiasm. Sherlock, sucked as best he could, while John pressed in deeper until Sherlock’s eyes were watering, and he made helpless little gagging sounds.

“You are loving this aren’t you?” John asked, knowing Sherlock was unable to answer with anything other than a grunt. Still, it was enough to satisfy him. Without warning John stepped back, and Sherlock looked crestfallen.

“Was I not performing adequately, sir?”

 

“No, no. Not at all Sherlock, I just want to fuck you, and if you keep doing that. I’m not going to get a chance.”

Sherlock beamed at that. “You do? Oh thank you, sir! Are you going to fuck me on this table...sir?”

John laughed, “you are a bossy little bottom aren’t you? Nope, I’m done with doing all the work. I think it’s time you contributed.” He reached over to unlock one of Sherlock’s wrists from the table. “Get the rest of yourself undone, come on over and ride me on the couch. Hurry now, I don’t have all day.”

 

Sherlock wasted no time in releasing his other three limbs from the restraints and cuffs. Though he had to move in some awkward positions to do so, ones that were even more difficult with a plug shoved up his arsehole. Once he was free, Sherlock plucked the glass piece from inside and left it on the table, before jogging over to the couch. Where John sat nude, except for the two leather cuffs around his wrists, which were stretched out along the back of the couch. John held his knees spread wide, displaying his enormous cock. So red, that it was almost purple, slick with a mixture of pre-cum, and Sherlock’s own saliva.

 

He wiggled two fingers at Sherlock’s wide eyes, and wasting no time, Sherlock leapt at him. He adjusted his long limbs until his thighs straddled Johns, and his knees were pressed into the cold leather. Sherlock spied the sandy-blonde head with hopeful eyes, a ‘please’ glaringly evident, but unspoken.

 

“Okay, Sherlock. You have permission to ride my cock now.”  
Sherlock made a gleeful sound, sat up, and reached around to grasp John’s dick with one hand, using the other to steady himself on a smooth shoulder.  John folded his own arms behind his head, and leaned back into the couch, making it clear that Sherlock was going to have to do all the work. In a counter of a single swoop- hot wet heat surrounded John's cock, and it was now his turn to be surprised at boldness. “Fuck, Sherlock. You alright?”

 

But Sherlock was statue still, he didn’t even breathe. Eyes squeezed shut, he sat there a moment with John seated deep inside him. John wasn’t sure if Sherlock was hurt, so he waited equal in their motionless state. Then Sherlock’s eyes fluttered open, “More than alright,” he said in a low voice, sending any remainder of blood into John’s already hard dick. Sherlock then started to cant his hips in small shifts, but John didn’t press. It was so amazing, that he feared he might come if he dared move a muscle.

 

He let Sherlock set the pace, it was almost painful in the sluggishness he chose at first, but after a few thrusts he sped up. Before he knew it, Sherlock was riding him in earnest. Moans tore themselves from deep and feral places. Sherlock gouged his fingers into John’s upper back. “Yes, oh God yes.” Sherlock cried out, his hips rocking with an earnest drive, so that each time the tip would rub over his prostate. John didn’t think he was going to hold out much longer. Watching this stunning and perfect man writhing with unabashed pleasure on top of him, and he decided he couldn’t stand it a moment more.

 

John released his hands from their clasp behind his head and grabbed Sherlock’s bouncing waist. “I’m cumming Sherlock, but you have wait. Wait until I give the...o...okay,” he sputtered out, right before letting the orgasm wash over him. They both sensed John spill inside, and Sherlock kept riding him out, until John dropped a hand to Sherlock’s cock. The first time he’d touched it, and said, “Now.”

“Thank, God!” Sherlock screamed, slamming his eyes shut, as white spurts erupted from John’s tight fist, and hard shudders wracked Sherlock’s body. John could feel him tightening around his softening cock, and the sensation was indescribable as it was wonderful.

“There you go. Ride it out, just ride it out Sherlock.” John spoke as if tending to a skittish horse, not a post-orgasmic teenager.  Sherlock slumped over him, panting as his large frame enveloped John’s much smaller one.

 

“Triple... eh?”

“Hmmm,” John was pulled out of relishing each sensation flooding his body with pleasure.

“My brother... paid you... triple... for this. Not enough. You deserve... ten times that.”

“Well, thank you Sherlock.” John wrapped his arms around the still heaving man, straining to catch his breath, not minding that their chests were covered in semen. “Next time, I’ll be sure he does.”

Sherlock pulled back out of the now sticky embrace, “Really Sir? You’ll see me again?”

John smiled up at him, “Of course, but I’m not done seeing you now.” He reached up both hands to cup Sherlock’s face, and plant his lips with a gentle caress. Sherlock returned the kiss with a flourish of enthusiasm. It was gentle and warm, and everything they needed, until Sherlock tried to shove his tongue inside.

“Sherlock.” John leaned back to admonish him further, but stopped when he saw the pink flush on Sherlock’s cheeks.

“Sorry, sir.”

  
John smiled up at Sherlock, still perched in his lap. “Oh, I’m definitely getting paid more next time.” John replied in a lighthearted tone. Though if he was being honest, he’d see Sherlock for free, and for an eternity.

 

 


End file.
